


The Great European Adventure

by FhimeChan



Category: Basic Instinct (Movies), Casino Royale (2006), Charlie Countryman (2013), Clash of the Titans (2010), Hannibal (TV), Hannibal Extended Universe - Fandom, Pushing Daisies
Genre: F/M, Kidnapping, M/M, Ned pining for Chuck, Resurrections, Unlucky Ned, adventures in Europe
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-07-02
Updated: 2017-09-04
Packaged: 2018-11-19 01:41:14
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,388
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11303115
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FhimeChan/pseuds/FhimeChan
Summary: Ned decides to fly to Europe to find the other half of his heart, Chuck. It is not revealed yet if he will succeed, but surely he will have an interesting journey and meet a lot ofMadsmad people.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> HEY I'M EDITING THOSE CHAPTERS! I've also written the rest, but it needs heavy editing. So...  
> \--if you wanna read, don't do it now, come back when I'll post the rest, because it'll be much less awful--
> 
> Pushing Daisies was the first tv show that I loved, so I jumped at the opportunity of writing a crossover for the Hannibal fandom. For the people who have not watched it, Pushing Daisies is a story about Ned the Pie Maker, who can resurrect the dead with a touch of his finger. If Ned touches the no-more-dead person again, the person dies again definitely. If the person stays alive for more than 60 seconds, someone else has to die in their place. The story starts when Ned resurrects his first and only love, Chuck.  
> I love Ned and Chuck, their cute love story and I love Chuck’s bright and hopeful attitude. She, the dead girl, is the one who pushes Ned to try new things in his life. In this case, she is indirectly the reason for his first travel in Europe.  
> I hope that I stayed true to the brightness and levity of the show, and I wish that you will enjoy this short story.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Where Emerson refuses to deal with Pining Ned and sends him to Europe.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to [Havelock](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Haveloc/pseuds/Haveloc) for beta’ing this chapter. I wrote it at the last moment and I would not have respected the deadline without her precious help!!

2 days, 4 hours, 7 minutes and 57 seconds had passed since Chuck had left him to go on tourneé in Europe with her aunts and since then every single one of Ned’s breaths had been an unending agony.

“I feel like someone have filled my lungs with a hot mixture of sugar and tamarind extract, had put them into the oven to cook and then had feed them to me with a grapefruit sauce” the Pie Maker confided to detective Emerson, who was sitting in his favourite table at the Pie Hole.

“Stop pining and take a plane to Europe” said the successful detective, without raising his eyes from the cross-stitched scarf he was working on.

And so the Pie Maker jumped on the first plane to Budapest, without noticing the little spelling mistake sending him to Bucharest.

\---

The lights of the city reflected on the river were beautiful, but all that Ned could see was a Chuck-shaped empty place by his side. Sighing, he picked up the phone and dialed Emerson’s number.

“The sensation in my lungs was growing better as I went nearer and nearer to Europe, but when I discovered that I was in the wrong city I felt like bleach was poured into the tamarind and now the corrosive liquid is attacking my chest from the inside”

He was answered by the voice mail ”Emerson Cod, detective. Ned please stop leaving mess…”

A loud sound from the horn of a car broke the silence, making the Pie Maker jump and lose his grip on the phone, which fell in the water below. Glancing down, Ned noticed that there were some steps leading down to the river, and that his phone was still visible just under the surface. Thanking Chuck for the integral waterproof cover, Ned walked down and kneeled close to the water. There was mud, and it was very difficult to see through. Ned had been quite lucky, because his mobile had fell above something just under the surface, something that Ned was not able to distinguish with the nocturnal lights. 

Suppressing a shiver, Ned pushed his hand into the dark water and grabbed his phone. His fingers briefly grazed the cold shape underneath, before extracting the muddy mobile from the water with relief. 

A moment later, all the air was knocked out from Ned’s lungs, as a boot had emerged from the water and kicked him violently in the belly. His back bumped violently against the steps leading to the street, and he just narrowly avoided hitting his head.

“What the fucking fuck are you fucking trying to do?” A man’s voice came from the figure emerged from the river. There was water dripping from his nose, his mouth and his hair, but he seemed completely unfazed, while he aggressively climbed to the shore.

Ned felt the panic rising while he tried to estimate how many seconds had passed since he had touched the man. Ten? Thirty? He was not able to tell, his head fuzzy from the blow. 

But it did not matter anymore, because Ned had somehow regained his feet, and the dark figure was extracting a muddy knife from his pocket, still yelling “What the fuck do you still want from me? Didn’t Gabi run away with that little cocksucker already?”

And so Ned stumbled and run up the steps, away from a fight where he did not stand a chance. He knew he was acting like a coward, but Chuck was far away and he was not good at avoiding knives, especially if brandished by an skilful man. 

He ran towards the street and to his hotel as fast as possible, without noticing the corpse lying in the dark alley near to the river. The body was still clutching a gun, as if death had found him when he was about to lash out and kill an oblivious tourist. 

\---

One day, 15 hours, 33 minutes and 18 seconds later, Ned was sitting near to the window on the plane to France, feeling little butterflies dancing in his belly while classical romantic music played in the background. He was going to see Chuck in four hours, 25 minutes and a handful of seconds.

But the music in his head came to an abrupt stop when a tall blonde man walked towards him and stopped right beside the vacant seat, raised his eyes to Ned’s face and shouted “What the fuck are you doing here?”

Ned recognized the voice instantly, it was difficult to forget someone who could almost knock you out two seconds after his resurrection. He stared at the man, who had narrowed his eyes but thankfully had not made more fuss, and considered his options.

He could touch the man again, and have the flight delayed. He could explained the situation to him and probably be called a liar and attacked again. Or…

“Have we met somewhere, sir?” Ned asked smoothly, the fear of the delay in seeing Chuck making him a good liar. It had been dark by the river, and the man had not heard his voice. He could just pretend not to know the man and avoid touching him.

The man frowned, but seemed to believe Ned. And then he sat next to him, taking over half of the space of Ned’s legs. The Pie Maker tried to occupy as little room as possible, but he was flying in Economy Class and the seats were not suited for tall men. 

The dead man, oblivious of his turmoil, extended his hand towards Ned, stopping one inch away from his face and saying “Excuse my manners, you seemed like someone who tried to screw me a couple of days ago. I’m Nigel.”

Trying helplessly to retreat further in his seat, Ned blurted “I have a skin disease. Highly contagious.”

Nigel frowned deeper, but retracted his hand and moved his legs. “No need to be this jumpy.”

Yes, not a good idea to be rude to a dangerous knife-holder. Even if no blades were allowed during the flight, it was better to try and stay friendly. So Ned managed a forced laugh, and answered “Sorry, mate, I am just scared of flying.”

It was not a lie.

\---

28 minutes and 43 seconds later, the plane was shaking for a turbulence. Ned was gripping the seat belt for dear life. As the plane gave a stronger shake, a cry escaped his mouth “Chuck!”

Nigel eyed him sideways. “Is she your girlfriend?”

Everything was better than focusing on the rolling plane, so Ned murmured “Yes. I am going to surprise her in France.” The thought of Chuck was like being covered with the skin of a sweet potato, the tender flesh inside warm and protected. “We don’t really do surprises, or at least, I don’t like surprises, but Chuck is brave and adventurous so she might appreciate me surprising her. So maybe from now on, we will do surprises, or at least I will surprise her and she will be surprised, and not the other way around because it would make me uneasy.”

Ned noticed that his grip on the belt was more relaxed now, and that the shaking seemed more subdued. He faced Nigel to thank the man, but his companion was now obstinately looking into another direction. If Ned had possessed a mirror, he would have seen little tears at the corner of the man’s eyes.

\---

Just another 24 minutes later the plane landed, and Ned finally relaxed. He was in the same country as Chuck, so everything was fine. He could almost smell the favourite cheese of the aunts, a smell that reminded him of home. 

Ned walked down the ladder of the plane and his mind was focused on Chuck, and Chuck only. He did not see the terrified faces of the other travellers, neither he heard Nigel yelling “What the fuck are you trying to do, you fuckers!” Instead he could almost hear the little gasp of surprise that Chuck would make seeing him, and see the smile that would surely follow. 

So Ned was completely taken aback when a black hood was forced into his head and his wrists were roughly pulled under his back and secured in handcuffs. 

The reality came back to his mind with the force of a hammer swung by an inebriated giant. Without his sight, Ned could hear the sounds only, a dull thud followed by a gasp of pain, half a swear-word, and then matter-of-fact orders in a language that Ned assumed was French.

Someone pushed him from behind, grunting “Move!” and Ned stumbled inside what he thought could be the back seat of a van, considering that he heard noises from an engine. Then something heavy was thrown against his back and he heard the voice from before bellowing “Tu l'as bien cherché, LeChiffre” before something, probably the door of the van, slammed.

In the darkness under the hood, Ned imagined Chuck and his smile, and it was like a wave of cinnamon spreading from the inside of his chest to the tips of his fingers. A little bit of the panic subsided as Ned sweared to find a way to reach her.

 


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Where things are dire and dark for our hero, but thankfully the number of the undeads increases.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello and cheers to everyone who is reading this!  
> What I understood from the first chapter is that there are two people who like and read this story, and I am one of those :D For this reason, I decided to take my time with the second chapter and to write exactly what I wanted to read. Practically speaking, it means a different style, - or so I perceive it - more crack and monkeys. Because I can :)  
> If the previous reader comes back here, welcome back! I hope you still enjoy it!  
> To anybody else who will stumble in here, thank you for giving this story a try :D
> 
> Thank you to [j9-j9](https://j9-j9.tumblr.com/) for beta'ing! All the remaining mistakes are mine :D

The light hit Ned in a shock, after hours of being deprived. It was not as if he had dozed off, he was too scared to, yet the continued darkness had put him in a lethargic state. Breaking it was almost unnatural. 

The pieces of reality that together gave form to the “now” came back to him suddenly and simultaneously. Nigel bound to the chair at his left struggling and yelling, the probably-but-not-surely French men surrounding them in the scarcely lit basement and finally his own position, standing in the middle of the room with his wrists bound with rope behind his back. His own fear was painting the world in vivid colours, the steely twinkle of the chair was more intense, every single spot of dirt on his shirt was in stark evidence. 

For the first time in his life, he had no idea how many seconds had passed, since time was stretching like a rubber band, making those few seconds of freedom from the hood last for hours, months, years. 

Ned realized after some time that a man was at his right holding the hood in his hands, and speaking to him in a calm and no-nonsense voice. He would have loved to play along and to free the world from his own nonsense… yet he was unable to do so, since he did not understand a single word. He focused instead on the grounding yellow of his captor’s teeth. The colour reminded him of Chuck’s honey, so sweet and delicate, as Chuck herself…

His train of thought was interrupted by a change of language. Evidently Yellow Teeth had realized the foolishness of his previous bellowing.

“Where is the money?” His captor was saying, now in English. 

“I have a wallet in the back pocket of my trousers, then my credit car…”

“You know what I am talking about!” 

Yellow Teeth was now snarling. At the blank expression on Ned’s face, he added, pronouncing the words separately as if talking to a baby “The. Poker. Money. The one that your companion here, LeChiffre, snatched from under Bond’s nose!”

Ned was fortunately saved from answering by Nigel yelling.

“I told you I NEVER fucking heard of this Bont bastard in my fucking life!”

He did not even manage to finish his sentence before another man, with an incongruous Christmas red jumper with reindeers, bellowed at Nigel and waved his fists under his nose. 

“Be quiet LeChiffre if you don't want to wake up in hell”. 

The movement made the little bell attached to the nose of the central reindeer trill. In the basement it sounded as if all the bells from Notre Dame had gathered there, and it was actually difficult to think of something more hellishly annoying.

As if summoned by the bell legion from hell, another man entered the basement in a rush, screaming “He is dead, he is dead!”

Reindeer and Yellow Teeth jumped in surprise, then Yellow Teeth, who seemed to be the boss, said “What are you talking about?”

Screaming Man in the meantime had reached Nigel’s side, and waved one finger just under Nigel’s chin. “He is not LeChiffre! Even if”. Nigel tried to bite the finger, and Screaming Man yelped and jumped away, “eww. Even if he looks like that evil fucker.”

Yellow Teeth looked unimpressed. “Yes, sure. He is dead, he is dead. Everybody is saying that he is dead.” He raised his hands in the air. “Where is the proof?”

Screaming Man straightened up and looked quite happy. “We have proof, sir!”

As if on cue, a man completely dressed in black slowly entered from the only door of the basement and kept it open. Ned, who had tried to remain as unnoticeable as possible during the exchange, felt a little bit of hope at the familiar sight. Four men were carrying a black coffin, slowly making their way through the small door, while the Funeral Man benevolently watched over them.

The bearers took a look around, and seemed to think that it was a good idea to get their burden as close as possible to Yellow Teeth. There was a general shuffle of feet and some hasty sidesteps as the captors tried to get out of the way of the coffin, looking at it nervously. Yellow Teeth seemed now to regret his decision to ask for proof, even if he could not change his mind now; not without appearing as a spineless leader. He took instead an almost unconscious step backward.

Finally, the coffin was laid down just behind Nigel's chair - since he could not have possibly shuffled out of the way, even if he seemed keen to do it - and right beside Ned, who had kept still. It was his daily job to wake up corpses, a coffin was a familiar and comforting sight. As soon as the basket touched the ground, the cover was lifted to discover the black lining inside, where a man identical to Nigel laid. For Ned's standards, the body was in perfect condition, just a little bit of blood was visible under the left eye. It was clear to him that the coffin had been taken away when the corpse had already been prepared for a respectable funeral. Makeup could cover everything.

A chorus of soft gasps accompanied the uncovering of the body, together with Reindeer's breathless whisper "He's really dead!" and Nigel’s horrified swearing, but Ned barely noticed those noises because of the crazy beating of his heart. It was his chance, probably his only one, because the attention of the room would soon return to Nigel and himself.

Acting immediately to avoid fear from blocking him, he took a quick step towards the coffin and, with his hands still tied behind his back, he headbutted the corpse.

Ned was expecting the brief flash of light and the sudden gasp of the body seeking air, but he was the only one. Panicked screams raised around him like the time that Chuck had accidentally set her bees free, but Ned had no time to pay any attention to them.

While his previous captors tried to run out of the door, he looked around for a sharp object, whatever that could be used to free his tied hands. He was lucky, because in that moment a knife fell out of Reindeer’s pocket, while he was skirting around Nigel’s chair and running towards the door accompanied by his personal orchestra of bells. With a velocity that he did not know he had, Ned dived to get the blade and cut the rope around his hands. He took a quick look around. 

Half of the men, including Yellow Teeth, had successfully escaped the basement, but the others were paralyzed with fear at the furthest corner of the room. Funeral Man had taken a little camera out of his pocket and was taking pictures with glee. The situation seemed under control, but they would soon remember their guns and start to open fire. Fortunately, the ex-corpse was still sitting in the coffin, groaning and keeping his hands to his forehead due to the pain, and that could be easily misinterpreted as a threat. Only by very scared men, but it could.

Ned focused on Nigel. He was very pale, looking almost like a corpse, and he was staring at the body sitting in the coffin with wide eyes and ragged breath. Taking care not to touch bare skin, Ned put the knife in Nigel’s hands and said in a rush “Free yourself, quick!”

He just received a blank stare in answer. The man was completely out of it, and he was starting to tremble. They did not have time for that, Chuck was waiting. 

Ned’s hood was on the floor, abandoned. Taking it and wrapping it around of his hand, Ned slapped Nigel as strong as he could. He said “This is not the time. We have to get out of here, then you can panic as much as you want.”

It worked. Nigel’s eyes suddenly focused, and in a heartbeat he was free. Pointedly avoiding  the body in the coffin, he sprinted towards the exit, Ned right behind him. They both took a breath in relief when they heard the door slam shut, separating them from the corpse and their kidnappers. Ned thought in a mental wave of honey and cinnamon that Chuck would have been proud of him. His legs felt lighter.

He could do that. He could find his road back to Chuck.

\---

In the room, LeChiffre raised himself completely out of his coffin and wobbled to his feet, each one of his movement surrounded by flashes of light from the Funeral Man. 

One of the kidnappers reached for his gun, but fell to the ground dead as soon as his fingers reached it. Realizing how that random unexplained death would look like on camera, LeChiffre smirked. Just the leverage he needed to make some fine subordinates out of this scared bunch.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Where Ned and Nigel seriously risk to have a meaningful and sentimental conversation.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> To the four people who left kudos here - thank you! You are the reason why I am carrying on with this story!  
> And thank you to [j9-j9](https://j9-j9.tumblr.com/) for the hard work as a beta! All the remaining mistakes are mine :)

25 minutes and 23 seconds later, Ned was wondering how on earth they managed to escape. The spreading panic had probably helped quite a lot. In the warehouse over the basement there were people running everywhere, bumping into each other in an attempt to reach the exit. A man with a green scarf bumped into Ned in the middle of a hallway, muttering angrily about being too late. The guards outside were so puzzled that they did not even try to use their guns, not even when Nigel headed towards the first car available and stole it in plain sight. Ned had started to panic halfway through the warehouse, and had just let Nigel take the lead. 

Now his mind was in a flurry of guilt and doubts. In the heat of the moment, he did not even think of touching the man again. He was responsible for another dead man. But it had been the only way to get out of that situation. Or so Ned had thought in that moment. But what if there was another way, and he did not think about it? What would Chuck think of him?

Twisting his hands, he realized that he was still clutching the hood that the kidnappers had used. He looked at Nigel. Two people he revived in probably just a little bit more than three days, two people whose lives he had failed to take back. And now he was in a stolen car with Nigel, who was probably a violent  criminal.

As if sensing that Ned was thinking about him, Nigel looked briefly in his direction, before focusing on the road again. He had been silent, and after his very loud swearing in the kidnapper's’ hands, Ned had no idea what to think of that. Should he expect some kind of retaliation for the slap? He squeezed the hood. If Nigel decided that they were enemies, he could be dead before even managing to touch him.

Ned’s increasingly bleak thoughts were interrupted when Nigel said, in a very scruffy tone of voice and staring straight ahead, “You didn’t leave me there.”

For 22 seconds, Ned had no idea what to answer. Then he tried with “...should I have done that?”

Nigel seemed equally puzzled. “Well, you lost precious time there to snap me out of my reverie and to free me. It would have been safer for you to just run the hell away from there.”

“Oh.” Ned did not really know what to add. 

They stayed silent for another 46 seconds. Then Nigel said “I am not used to people not leaving me behind.” After another 52 seconds, he forced out the words “Thank you.”

Ned answered with an automatic “You are welcome.” 

He hoped that the emotional moment was over. Having other people’s feelings - except Chuck’s - forced onto him was like taking the first bite from a pie and discovering that the stuffing was all wobbly, exposed, and ready to bleed out at the first rough movement. Those pies made him feel like he had too much responsibility in his hands and usually left him with an unpleasant taste in his mouth that Ned associated with metaphysical reasoning. 

He was quite happy when 2 minutes and 18 seconds later Nigel asked, swallowing “Do you know what… Have you done… What’s… What did you do to that corpse?”

This was familiar territory. 

\---

15 minutes and 3 seconds after, Nigel said “Are you telling me that I’ll keep living if I don’t touch you for the rest of my life?”

Ned nodded. Nigel beamed “Oh but that’s fucking awesome! That’s the fucking simplest rule that I ever heard of!”

Ned blinked. Then he heard himself saying “Try to think for a moment if you could never ever touch again your dog or the love of your life. Would it be easy? Or would it be like being forced to eat a pie with commercial white sugar instead of Chuck’s refined golden honey?”

Nigel thought that he should not have said that.

\---

2 hour, 33 minutes and 6 seconds after, Ned concluded “And now as you can see the universe is conspiring not to make us meet! Would you call that simple?”

Nigel had tried to interrupt Ned for the first 20 minutes, but had given up at the magnitude of the man’s rant. As Ned kept talking, and talking, and talking again, the story had gotten under his skin. Chuck was the other half of Ned’s soul. After the bad conclusion of his own love story, Nigel needed to believe in happy endings. And he owed the man his life. 

So when Ned was done, he simply asked “Where is the next performance?”

His companion considered “Assuming that more or less 24 hours has passed since our capture, they should be in Greece in 2 days.”

Nigel nodded. They were in Austria now, it should not be too difficult to take Ned to the right place in time. He said “I saw a tablet in the back seat, take it and check the closest route from our position.”

Ned gaped “Are you taking me there? But why?”

Nigel side-eyed him “Do you really want to hear more about my feelings?” At Ned’s horrified face, he concluded “Yes, I thought so.”

\---

Their captors had not taken their wallets and there was an additional tank of gasoline in the trunk, so they just stopped for lunch to buy sandwiches in a small supermarket in Slovenia. Ned was starting to suspect that they had been kidnapped by unqualified criminals.

In the evening they parked in front of a small motel in Kosovo, and went to sleep without any problems. Ned started to hope.

\---

"We have a problem" Nigel said at breakfast, dropping the tablet over Ned's toast. It was open in a tabloid newspaper, called TattleCrime. The headline recited "Missing journalist in Switzerland".

Ned recognized with a shiver the young man in the picture. He had bumped into him during the crazy run to reach the exit of the warehouse. He started to read the rest of the article.

_ I am very sad to announce that my dear friend Adam Towers, notorious in London for his not always legal and often dangerous methods of looking for a scoop, this time tried to chew on a  bone too big for him. The journalist, who went to Switzerland assuring me that "that bunch of men playing with their guns could not distinguish a journalist in disguise if their life depended on it " is now missing. The official search will not start before a couple of days has passed, but in the meantime whoever has information can email me. I will do whatever I can to save my dear friend and to get a scoop out of it. _

Followed a detailed description of the man and of his car. That was identical in every detail to the one that they have stolen. Ned took a look out the window, to where the car was parked. Yes, identical to the last digit of the plate number.

\---

5 hours, 56 minutes and 5 seconds after, Ned was wondering if keeping the car would have been worth the risk. He was used to baking and eating pies, not walking for hours and was suffering more than Nigel, who seemed in a very good mood. 

His companion had cheerfully explained that he had always loved to trek in the mountains and had started calculating the shortest route to get them to their destination, which apparently included climbing mountains in forgotten-by-God small paths. 

Ned was thinking about what Chuck would have said in this situation, and considered that she would have been very happy to go on an adventure. He stubbornly avoided the thought of the journalist that they had left without a car. It was not practical to feel guilty now. He focused instead on imagining Chuck's smile, which made Ned forget the tiredness and straighten his back. 

After 27 seconds of contemplating the love of his life, Chuck grimaced. One second after that, Ned disappeared into a hole in the ground. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Edit 13/01/18  
> I didn't abandon this story, but chapter 4 is tough. I'll actually finish it, eventually :)  
> Kudos would probably accelerate the process, but I'll reach the end regardless.
> 
> Edit 27/09/18  
> I'm still working at the remaining chapters. The first draft is almost completed, only half of chapter 6 is missing. Then I'll edit and post.


End file.
